At Last
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: While Kurt frosts cupcakes for his and Blaine's anniversary party, Blaine surprises Kurt with an odd gift from an equally bizarre place from their past. The title comes from an Etta James song - At Last. Blaine A. Kurt H.


**A/N:** _Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt 'jukebox'. FutureFic, fluff, with a lot of romance and reminiscing about a particular event. Warning for mention of Finn._

Kurt works quickly, frosting cupcakes one by one in his father's kitchen – his own original recipe of sour cream chocolate soufflé with a whipped coconut topping.

They happen to be Blaine's favorite, which is why Kurt chose them for their surprise anniversary party tonight.

It's a surprise anniversary party thrown for Kurt and Blaine by his dad and Carole, but the two of them could never keep a secret. He'll act appropriately surprised, of course, but there's no harm in supplementing whatever dreadful store bought cake they're sure to have with his tiny masterpieces.

In between frosting cupcakes, Kurt looks up and around at the kitchen he's standing in, and gazes outside at the quiet neighborhood.

Nothing has changed.

Kurt loves his life in New York City. He loves the life and the culture, the constant hustle, he even loves the smog and the grime (within reason). But as much as he detests Lima, Ohio (and he _really_ detests Lima, Ohio) he can appreciate the peaceful atmosphere.

But there are many ghosts in this house for him, too.

Any second now, he expects Finn to come bounding down the stairs, lamely say, "What's that over there?" and try to swipe one of Kurt's cupcakes whether Kurt turns his head to look or not.

It's been more than ten years, and Kurt can still feel Finn in that house.

Kurt sighs and returns to his cupcakes, humming an old Etta James tune that jumps unexpectedly in his head.

"Kurt!" he hears Blaine call from the front door. "Kurt, where are you? I have a surprise for you…"

Kurt's head snaps up. He turns it left and right, trying to find something to cover up the cupcakes that will hide them but won't ruin them.

"I'm…I'm in the kitchen," Kurt calls out, "but don't come in here. I'll come out to you."

"O-kay," Blaine says with a hint of confusion. Kurt searches a few seconds longer, but can't find anything suitable, and decides to give up. As long as he tells Blaine not to go into the kitchen, he won't…he hopes.

"What is it?" Kurt asks, but the moment he walks through the door that leads to the living room, hands cover his eyes. "Blaine!" Kurt hisses, his voice lowered. "I said we can't do anything kinky in my dad's house, even if he's not home."

Blaine chuckles.

"It's nothing like that. I bought you a present," he says, carefully leading his husband through the living room, "but it's kind of personal, so I wanted to give it to you now instead of in front of all those people tonight."

"Don't let on that you know," Kurt warns him for the fiftieth time. "You know it will break their hearts."

"I know, I know," Blaine says.

Kurt reaches out a hand to steady himself, and his fingers brush a smooth surface, like glass. He bites his lower lip, eager to see his new acquisition. Blaine has been on an antiquing kick the last few years and has managed to come home with some interesting finds. Kurt can't even imagine what he might have found at an estate sale, or maybe hidden in the corner of someone's barn the way the guys from _American Pickers_ do.

Kurt loves surprises, but if that's what Blaine was doing all morning, he's a little jealous that Blaine didn't ask him to come along.

Blaine drops his hands.

"Okay…open them."

Kurt bounces on the balls of his feet, keeping his eyes closed a second longer, prolonging the suspense. He counts to three inside his head. Kurt's eyes fly open and he holds his breath. Then he sees it…and he stares at it…his face frozen in a mask of excitement, hiding his real feelings of bemusement.

Standing before him is a dusty, filthy jukebox.

"It's an old jukebox," Kurt says, trying to maintain his excitement from earlier, though Blaine doesn't seem to notice how quickly it's fading.

"Not just any jukebox," Blaine says, a proud smile blossoming on his lips that starts to swallow up his whole face. "Look closer."

Kurt leans in, putting a hand to his nose when the stench of stale beer and cigarettes assail his nose.

But funny enough, it's a familiar smell of stale beer and cigarettes.

Looking at the jukebox, suddenly, Kurt feels like a teenager again.

"You bought the jukebox…from Scandals?" Kurt asks, standing up straight and staring at his husband.

"Yup," Blaine says with a giddy nod. "I saw in the newspaper when we got here that they're going to turn the place into a bowling alley, and I wanted to have something to remember it by."

Kurt scrunches his face.

"Why?" he asks, looking at the jukebox and then at Blaine.

"Because, that one date that we had there," Blaine says, wrapping an arm around his husband's waist, "it was...incredible."

Kurt's incredulous expression turns into a full-fledged glare as memories of that night pop like flash bulbs inside his brain.

"You and I remember that night quite differently then," Kurt mutters.

"Maybe we do," Blaine says, laying kisses onto Kurt's neck even though his husband is reluctant to melt into them. "That night was a game changer for me. I came to a lot of realizations."

Kurt has a fleeting recollection of Blaine dancing with Sebastian Smythe, and scoffs.

"Yeah?" Kurt asks, his voice flat. "Like what?"

"Like, how much I loved you," Blaine says between kisses. "That I wanted to keep you. That I would need to get my act together if I wanted to be worthy of you."

Kurt pulls back a bit from Blaine's lips to look into his husband's eyes.

"Really?" Kurt asks.

Blaine tilts his head.

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I…It's just…you've never talked about that before," Kurt says, bending an inch to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder. "I mean, I know we talked about…things that happened that night, but I've never heard you say that."

"Well, I did," Blaine says with a shadow of regret. "I guess I just didn't know how to say it. You know, I'm always so much better at expressing myself through song. I couldn't think of one back then, one that conveyed everything I felt in my heart…" Blaine unwraps his arm from Kurt's waist and walks over to the jukebox, "but I think I have the perfect one now." Kurt watches Blaine pull up the cord from the bottom and plug it into an outlet on the wall. The machine hums for a second, then whirls to life – discs shifting, colored lights swirling, fake tinsel stars on the inside reflecting their glow. Blaine pulls a quarter out of his pocket, slides it into the coin slot, and presses the letter C and the number 6. There's a sound of discs shuffling and then settling. After another pause, the strains of a bluesy jazz tune fill the air.

_At last_

_My love will come along…_

"Etta James," Kurt says with a smile.

But not any Etta James song.

Kurt's _favorite_ Etta James song.

A song that, even as a teenager, he saw him and Blaine dancing to at their wedding.

It didn't happen then, but…

Blaine holds his hand out to Kurt - still so much the dapper young schoolboy that Kurt first fell in love with - and says, "May I have this dance?"

"Yes," Kurt says, taking Blaine's hand and curling into his embrace. "Yes, you may."


End file.
